Часть текста: from high repute among the literary cognoscenti-- which you bad enjoyed for more than 30 years-- to both acclaim and abuse as the world-renowned author of a sensational bestseller. In the aftermath of this cause celebre, do you ever regret having written Lolita? On the contrary, I shudder retrospectively when I recall that there was a moment, in 1950, and again in 1951, when I was on the point of burning Humbert Humbert's little black diary. No, I shall never regret Lolita. She was like the composition of a beautiful puzzle-- its composition and its solution at the same time, since one is a mirror view of the other, depending on the way you look. Of course she completely eclipsed my other works-- at least those I wrote in English: The Real Life of Sebastian Knight, Bend Sinister, my short stories, my book of recollections; but I cannot grudge her this. There is a queer, tender charm about that mythical nymphet. Though many readers and reviewers would disagree that her charm is tender, few would deny that it is queer-- so much so that when director Stanley Kubrick proposed his plan to make a movie of Lolita, you were quoted as saying, "Of course they'll have to change the plot. Perhaps they will make Lolita a dwarfess. Or they will make her 16 and Humbert 26. " Though you finally wrote the screenplay yourself, several reviewers took the film to task for watering down the central relationship. Were you satisfied with the final product? I thought the movie was absolutely first-rate. The four main actors deserve the very highest praise. Sue Lyon bringing that breakfast tray or childishly pulling on her sweater in the car-- these are moments of unforgettable acting and directing. The killing of Quilty is a masterpiece, and so is the death of Mrs. Haze. I must point out, though, that I had nothing to do with the actual production. If I had, I might have insisted on stressing certain...

2. Набоков Дмитрий: Отцовские бабочки. Отцовские бабочки. Father's Butterflies (английский язык)

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Часть текста: Delphini, the tedious perusal of the index of names enclosed with an annual volume of a monthly journal, the sheer number of these journals and volumes (in my father's library there were more than a thousand of the latter alone, representing a good hundred journals) - all this had to be overcome in order to hunt down the necessary reference, if it existed at all. Nonetheless, even in my exceptionally propitious situation things were not easy: Russia, particularly in the north, dwelt in a mist, while the local lists, scattered through the journals, totally haphazard, scanty, and cruelly inaccurate in nomenclature, only maddened me when at last I ferreted them out. My father was the preeminent entomologist of his time, and very well off to boot, but the ordinary amateur, unable to dispatch his scouts throughout Russia, and denied the opportunity - or not knowing how - to gain access to specialized collections and libraries (and an accidental boon, the hasty inspection of collections at a lepidopterological society or in the cellar of some museum, does not satisfy the true enthusiast, who needs to have the boon always at hand), had no choice but to hope for a miracle. And that miracle dawned in 1912 with the appearance of my father's four-volume work The Butterflies and Moths of the Russian Empire. Although in a hall adjoining the library dark-red cabinets contained my father's supremely rich collections, consisting of specimens complete with thoroughly accurate names, dates, and places of capture, I personally belonged to the category of curieux who, in order to acquaint themselves properly with a butterfly and to visualize it, require three things; its artistic depiction, a compendium of all that has been written about it, and its insertion within the general system of classification. With no words and no...

3. Lolita. Part One. Chapters 18 - 22

Входимость: 3. Размер: 53кб.

Часть текста: and H. a touch of vivid vermeil; but I knew I would not dare be too tender with cornered Lolita yet, and therefore agreed it was not worth while tearing the child away from her beloved Camp Q. My soi-disant passionate and lonely Charlotte was in everyday life matter-of-fact and gregarious. Moreover, I discovered that although she could not control her heart or her cries, she was a woman of principle. Immediately after she had become more or less my mistress (despite the stimulants, her “nervous, eager chri a heroic chri ! had some initial trouble, for which, however, he amply compensated her by a fantastic display of old-world endearments), good Charlotte interviewed me about my relations with God. I could have answered that on that score my mind was open; I said, insteadpaying my tribute to a pious platitudethat I believed in a cosmic spirit. Looking down at her fingernails, she also asked me had I not in my family a certain strange strain. I countered by inquiring whether she would still want to marry me if my father’s maternal grandfather had been, say, a Turk. She said it did not matter a bit; but that, if she ever found out I did not believe in Our Christian God, she would commit suicide. She said it so solemnly that it gave me the creeps. It was then I knew she was a woman of principle. Oh, she was very genteel: she said “excuse...

4. Lolita. Part One. Chapters 23 - 27

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Часть текста: in a heap), and stood there, shining in the sun, its doors open like wings, its front wheels deep in evergreen shrubbery. To the anatomical right of this car, on the trim turn of the lawn-slope, an old gentleman with a white mustache, well-dresseddouble-breasted gray suit, polka-dotted bow-tielay supine, his long legs together, like a death-size wax figure. I have to put the impact of an instantaneous vision into a sequence of words; their physical accumulation in the page impairs the actual flash, the sharp unity of impression: Rug-heap, car, old man-doll, Miss O.’s nurse running with a rustle, a half-empty tumbler in her hand, back to the screened porchwhere the propped-up, imprisoned, decrepit lady herself may be imagined screeching, but not loud enough to drown the rhythmical yaps of the Junk setter walking from group to groupfrom a bunch of neighbors already collected on the sidewalk, near the bit of checked stuff, and back to the car which he had finally run to earth, and then to another group on the lawn, consisting of Leslie, two policemen and a sturdy man with tortoise shell glasses. At this point, I should explain that the prompt appearance of the patrolmen, hardly more than a minute after the accident, was due to their having been ticketing the illegally parked cars in a cross lane two blocks down the grade; that the fellow with the glasses was Frederick Beale, Jr., driver of the Packard; that his 79-year-old father, whom the nurse had just watered on the green bank where he laya banked banker so to speakwas not in a dead faint, but was comfortably and methodically recovering from a mild heart attack or its possibility; and, finally, that the laprobe on the sidewalk (where she had so often pointed out to me with disapproval the crooked green cracks) concealed the mangled remains of Charlotte Humbert who had been knocked down and dragged several feet by the Beale...

5. Eugene Onegin. A Novel in Verse by Aleksandr Pushkin. Chapter one

Входимость: 2. Размер: 72кб.

Часть текста: would be worthier of you — be worthier of a fine soul full of a holy dream, of live and limpid poetry, 8 of high thoughts and simplicity. But so be it. With partial hand take this collection of pied chapters: half droll, half sad, 12 plain-folk, ideal, the careless fruit of my amusements, insomnias, light inspirations, unripe and withered years, 16 the intellect's cold observations, and the heart's sorrowful remarks. CHAPTER ONE To live it hurries and to feel it hastes. Prince Vyazemski I “My uncle has most honest principles: when he was taken gravely ill, he forced one to respect him 4 and nothing better could invent. To others his example is a lesson; but, good God, what a bore to sit by a sick person day and night, not stirring 8 a step away! What base perfidiousness to entertain one half-alive, adjust for him his pillows, 12 sadly serve him his medicine, sigh — and think inwardly when will the devil take you?” II Thus a young scapegrace thought as with post horses in the dust he flew, by the most lofty will of Zeus 4 the heir of all his kin. Friends of Lyudmila and Ruslan! The hero of my novel, without preambles, forthwith, 8 I'd like to have you meet: Onegin, a good pal of mine, was born upon the Neva's banks, where maybe you were born, 12...

6. Lolita. Part Two. Chapters 22 - 26

Входимость: 2. Размер: 57кб.

Часть текста: had ordered at Silver Spur Court, Elphinstone, turned out to belong to the glossily browned pine-log kind that Lolita used to be so fond of in the days of our carefree first journey; oh, how different things were now! I am not referring to Trapp or Trapps. After allwell, really… After all, gentlemen, it was becoming abundantly clear that all those identical detectives in prismatically changing cars were figments of my persecution mania, recurrent images based on coincidence and chance resemblance. Soyons logiques , crowed the cocky Gallic part of my brainand proceeded to rout the notion of a Lolita-maddened salesman or comedy gangster, with stooges, persecuting me, and hoaxing me, and otherwise taking riotous advantage of my strange relations with the law. I remember humming my panic away. I remember evolving even an explanation of the “Birdsley” telephone call… But if I could dismiss Trapp, as I had dismissed my convulsions on the lawn at Champion, I could do nothing with the anguish of knowing Lolita to be ...

7. Lolita. Part Two. Chapters 9 - 16

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Часть текста: forward to meet, proved on the whole disappointing. There was Opal Something, and Linda Hall, and Avis Chapman, and Eva Rosen, and Mona Dahl (save one, all these names are approximations, of course). Opal was a bashful, formless, bespectacled, bepimpled creature who doted on Dolly who bullied her. With Linda Hall the school tennis champion, Dolly played singles at least twice a week: I suspect Linda was a true nymphet, but for some unknown reason she did not comewas perhaps not allowed to cometo our house; so I recall her only as a flash of natural sunshine on an indoor court. Of the rest, none had any claims to nymphetry except Eva Rosen. Avis ws a plump lateral child with hairy legs, while Mona, though handsome in a coarse sensual way and only a year older than my aging mistress, had obviously long ceased to be a nymphet, if she ever had been one. Eva Rosen, a displaced little person from France, was on the other hand a good example of a not strikingly beautiful child revealing to the perspicacious amateur some of the basic elements of nymphet charm, such as a perfect pubescent figure and lingering eyes and high cheekbones. Her glossy copper hair had Lolita’s silkiness, and the features of her delicate milky-white face with pink lips and silverfish eyelashes were less foxy than those of her likesthe great clan of intra-racial redheads; nor did she sport their green uniform but wore, as I...

8. Lolita. Part Two. Chapters 27 - 31

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Часть текста: the fiery phantasm a perfection which made my wild delight also perfect, just because the vision was out of reach, with no possibility of attainment to spoil it by the awareness of an appended taboo; indeed, it may well be that the very attraction immaturity has for me lies not so much in the limpidity of pure young forbidden fairy child beauty as in the security of a situation where infinite perfections fill the gap between the little given and the great promisedthe great rosegray never-to-be-had. Mes fentres! Hanging above blotched sunset and welling night, grinding my teeth, I would crowd all the demons of my desire against the railing of a throbbing balcony: it would be ready to take off in the apricot and black humid evening; did take offwhereupon the lighted image would move and Even would revert to a rib, and there would be nothing in the window but an obese partly clad man reading the paper. Since I sometimes won the race between my fancy and nature’s reality, the deception was bearable. Unbearable pain began when chance entered the fray and deprived me of the smile meant for me. “ Savez-vous qu’ dix ans ma petite tait folle de voius?” said a woman I talked ...

9. Долинин Александр: Комментарий к роману Владимира Набокова «Дар». Глава пятая

Входимость: 2. Размер: 145кб.

Часть текста: – Критик не узнал цитату из «Египетских ночей» Пушкина (см.: [4–311]). Набоков насмехается над Петром Пильским (см. о нем в преамбуле), который в отзыве о второй главе «Дара» упрекнул писателя за использование слова «первосонье», не поняв, что оно принадлежит Пушкину и появляется в цитате из «Капитанской дочки». В этой же рецензии Пильский попал впросак и с фамилией главного героя «Дара», которую он принял за «как бы собирательный псевдоним», утверждая, что Сирин со злой иронией говорит о «кокетничающих, вычурных и бездарных стихах какого-то Годунова-Чердынцева» (Сегодня. 1937. № 274. 6 октября). Кроме того, в рецензии на «Приглашение на казнь» Пильский умудрился переврать заглавие романа, превратив его в «Покушение на казнь» (Сегодня. 1936. № 69. 9 марта). 5–3 … отзыв Христофора Мортуса… — См.: [1–136], [1–172], [2–80], [3–59], [3–61]. С точки зрения стиля и идей этот отзыв продолжает пародировать Адамовича, но лежащая в его основе параллель между утилитаризмом шестидесятников и современной религиозно-философской критикой направлена, кроме того, против З. Гиппиус. Заставив Мортуса признать, что «в каком-то последнем и непогрешимом смысле наши и их требования совпадают» (478), Набоков иллюстрирует мысль Ходасевича о близости эстетических взглядов Гиппиус к идеям Писарева и Чернышевского: «Ими была проникнута вся „передовая“ критика, с варварской наивностью отделявшая в искусстве форму от содержания. <… > Вот от этих-то эстетических воззрений, воспринятых в...

10. Шифф Стейси: Вера (Миссис Владимир Набоков). 3. В Зазеркалье

Входимость: 2. Размер: 143кб.

Часть текста: природного цвета Вериных волос. Уже в первые годы брака в волосах, тающих в солнечных лучах, стали проблескивать голубовато-серые нити. Вера с гордостью сообщала, что голова у нее начала седеть уже с двадцати пяти лет. В возрасте тридцати с небольшим она, молодая мать, еще больше поседела (и похудела). Вид ее определялся неважным, как отмечалось, самочувствием. Еще через пару лет волосы Веры стали почти сплошь жемчужно-серыми. В сорок с хвостиком опаловые пряди терялись в сияющих клубах седины. (С волосами Лены Массальской происходило то же и в том же возрасте, однако сестры заговорили об этом лишь в более поздние годы.) Вере не терпелось ускорить процесс. «Скорей бы уж вся поседела, — вздыхая, говорила она в 1948 году, хотя почти так оно и было. „Люди подумают, что я женился на старухе“, — возражал муж, на что Вера, глазом не моргнув, отвечала: „Глядя на тебя, не подумают!“» В конце сороковых она, с ее жемчужными волосами и алебастровой кожей — несоответствие между цветом волос и молодостью лица особенно бросалось в глаза, — станет не менее эффектна, чем в двадцатые годы, в период маски. Вера очень гордилась своим седым ореолом, который удивительным образом подчеркивал ее утонченность, неувядаемость; делал ее ни на кого не похожей. Седина придавала ее облику что-то неземное. Вера с готовностью подхватила восторженную фразу одной парикмахерши: такой цвет невозможно воспроизвести искусственно. Ни у кого больше не было такой необыкновенной натуральной седины. Мнение о собственном облике сложилось у Веры довольно рано; собственное отражение казалось ей неадекватным не только в романах...

Поиск по творчеству и критикеCлово "THANK"

Поиск по творчеству и критике
Cлово "THANK"